


Deviance

by Delia_Maguire



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Don't worry, Eden Club (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Getting Together, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), He'll get it, Hoodies, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Moving In Together, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Poor Connor, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Club, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sick Character, Sickfic, Thirium (Detroit: Become Human), Worried Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delia_Maguire/pseuds/Delia_Maguire
Summary: Androids don't feel.So why then is RK800 experiencing a corruption in his programming after probing the memory of a broken WR400 and what does it mean for his ability to complete his mission?





	1. Sex Clubs and Stupid Ideas

The WR400 would only remain reactivated for a few sparse moments longer, 34.7 seconds to be exact, and questioning it had gotten them nowhere fast. This just wouldn’t do. Connor’s very existence hinged on piecing together this confounding puzzle of the sudden influx of deviancy and, as much as he didn’t care about that considering he was an android and thus had no existence, per say, to concern himself with, failure was not an option.  Connor came to Eden Club in search of answers and he was not about to leave this crummy joint without them.

If Connor wasted any more time pointlessly questioning the failing Traci bot, it would inevitably lead to a mission failure, making the course of action an unacceptable choice that was vetoed immediately in favor of analyzing the situation for alternative options. A millisecond analysis of the situation that would have been imperceivable to the human eye presented a second route to take: Probing the android’s memories. Hank had suggested it before he’d reactivated the thing and doing so would allow Connor to see what this Traci had seen before it met its untimely demise. It seemed to be the only logical solution when another choice failed to present itself in the whirlwind of data and analysis flooding the detective bot’s systems at the moment, all his processing power devoted to concocting solutions and running through possibilities to assess their likelihood of success.

Connor didn’t hesitate. The electronic detective darted out a lightning quick hand to grasp the pleasure bot’s own hand, feeling his synthetic skin melt away to reveal his true make of sleek, white plastic underneath. The moment contact was initiated, the Traci drew in a sharp gasp, jolting upright and efficiently taking a few seconds off Connor’s internal countdown to drop it to 12.2 seconds as the jostle wasted a few drops of what little thirium the android had remaining in her failing body. The fake girl’s gaudily painted eyes blew wide and terrified for a moment, her horrified gaze locking with the Cyberlife creation’s own brown orbs from under her thick, plastic lashes for a fraction of a second before the synthetic humanoid was lost to the bot’s memories.

_Sweat. Panting. Grunting._

_Stop._

_Pain. Pain. Pain._

_Android’s didn’t feel pain._

_Pain. The man’s muscled arm rearing back. Again. Again._

**_Stop._ **

_Pain. Again. A back hand. Pain. Hair pulling. Thrusting. Groaning. Pain._

_No. Stop._ **_Stop._ **

_Thrusting. Slamming. Smacking. Fist in hair. Fist in stomach. Again. Pain. Grunting. Panting. Sweating. Pain. Punching. Pulling. Fucking. Pain. Punching. Hitting. Kicking. Slamming. Fucking. Thrusting. Laughing. Fucking. Pain._

**_Stop. Stop. Stop._ **

“Connor!” A gruff, loud voice finally broke through the Cyberlife Android’s preoccupied audio processor, slicing through the panting, and the gruning, and the _laughing_ like beam of light ripping through a dark cave.

12.2 seconds were up. The Traci had deactivated. Connor was- Connor was abruptly lurching a side step backwards towards the toilet conveniently positioned right beside the deceased pleasure bot until his hands found themselves clasped on the edges of the silver bowl of the thing and his head bowed close to the rim. The android's legs seemed to become inexplicably weak, leaving the fake man to collapse to his knees as he lurched over the toilet and felt the components in his midsection move and react in ways they were most certainly not meant to.

Androids didn’t puke. There was no reason for such a thing unless the specimen in question was a practice bot for medical students still in training but considering human doctors were becoming increasinlgly rare as timed passed on, even this was becoming an oddity. Android’s didn’t puke. They didn’t possess the programming, let alone the components, to do such a thing to Connor’s knowledge as there was no need for such a disgusting feature. Android’s _didn’t_ puke.

As if the universe itself were out to spite him, all at once Connor was hurling, his body retching up a thirium based substance that glowed blue like his normal blood but appeared far too thick and sticky to be quite the same material. The biocomponents in the electronic man’s midsection lurched and his stomach area tensed in response, leaving the android heaving in huge convulsions that shook his frame to the core and forced a gagging sound from the electronic creature’s throat as the unknown, impossible liquid burst from his mouth and spilled out over his lips to stain the silver toilet bowl a brilliant blue. Connor would probably be tempted to sample the stuff for analysis if he thought Hank wouldn’t scold him, or worse yet, puke himself. Well, that and Connor honestly felt ununderstandabley awful.

Connor couldn’t feel awful. Connor couldn’t feel. Android’s don’t feel. Yet Connor could _feel_ that man’s fist in his-Well, actually her-um, its-er...the Traci bot’s hair and _smell_ the stink of his sweat as the guy pressed in all around him. The synthetic detective could taste the hot, heavy musk of the man lingering in the air and sense his wet breath coming in harsh gasps against the android’s ear as the attacker whispered horrible things to him- The Traci bot. Not him, the _Traci bot._

_A good fuck. Hired whore. Machine. Plaything. Nothing but a machine. Pleasure doll to be thrown away when I’m done with-_

“Connor, for fucks sake!” Hanks’ voice cut through the borrowed memory once more, much closer this time as a large hand found its way to each of the android’s shoulders, the presence of the weighty limbs bringing it to the automatized detective’s attention that his body had been shaking, a response Connor had no need for and thus should have no program for.

Connor released one last gagging sigh before he finally drew his head up slowly from its bowed position and turned slightly to face his companion, attempting to put himself back on track and refocus on the mission as quickly as possible as he was programmed to do. Failure was not in his programming - Neither was puking, but Connor could worry about that later.  

Hank had crouched down beside the android, close enough to stretch one arm out to grasp Connor’s far shoulder while keeping his other hand firmly in place over the closer one. The Cyberlife machine had run a quick analysis of the situation as a backup process that had been automatic and had come to the general conclusion of “gross.” So, with this in mind, Connor read a high probability that his partner would be grimacing disgustingly at the mess of a toilet bowl and trying to distance himself from the impossible disaster as quickly as possible. It was thus more than a little unexpected when the android found Hank’s gaze to be locked on him as the lieutenant made no obvious moves to retreat from the sickening sight. Analytically, it made no sense.

“Fuck, Connor, I didn’t even know you could do that.” Hank scoffed softly, obviously attempting to keep his voice hushed despite the fact that there was no sign of the attacker remaining in the area to be alerted by a rise in tone, the lack of a need for such quietness made apparent by the noisy gagging Connor made failing to alert any potential threats.

“Me neither, Lieutenant.” Connor admitted tentatively, sagging down from his kneeling position so that his butt rested on the floor as he angled his body to face Hank full on rather than just craning his neck to view his companion for his position over the toilet bowl. “But do not concern yourself, I still managed to gather the information I sought.” The android assured optimistically, forcing himself to sound cheery about this despite the fact that recalling what information he’d managed to gain also meant sorting through the actual experience to discern the details.

Connor shuddered slightly at the thoughts that bombarded him, another bodily reaction he never knew he was capable of until this moment as the android tried to push away the uncomfortable sensations that came with the memory. The cyberlife created creature could feel the slimy touch of hands against his skin, fully aware of the crushing weight of the man above him, holding him in place no matter how hard he struggled, and fought, and begged… A translucent warning blipped into existence at the edge of Connor’s vision, informing him that his internal temperature was rising to an unhealthy level: Stress induced.

Connor shouldn’t feel stress. Connor shouldn’t feel. Android’s didn’t feel.

“The android that murdered the victim was another Traci unit. Strangulation, as we suspected. Blue hair. Went-” Connor rambled off, determined to get back to the mission no matter what. It didn’t matter if his internal components still writhed and twisted or that his mind was clouded with horrendous images that left him inclined to bow his head back over the toilet bowl once more to lose whatever thirium-like gunk that stuff was he had left.

“Connor! Connor! Forget chasing down crazy hookers for one minute, will you? You just threw up half your guts!” Hank cut off the android’s impromptu report with a gruff snort and a dismissive wave of his hand as if the policeman could just shoo away Connor’s insane ideas.

Connor couldn’t. The mission came first, his comfort came later. It didn’t matter if he was bleeding out or just coping with some disturbing images, there was nothing more important than tracking down the rogue deviant. He couldn’t fail. Not again. They’d deactivate him. They’d strip him down to his biocomponents. They’d-

Hank wiped a tarnished and already horrendously stained jacket sleeve over Connor’s mouth, swiping the ruined fabric carefully against blue coated lips to smear the sticky substance across the graying expanse of cloth. The action was soft, and slow, almost gentle in its unspoken comfort and care and somehow soothing in a way, or, you know, it would be if androids could be soothed. Yeah. Totally not soothing because Connor was an unsoothable machine. Right. Either way... The high stress levels notification that had been marring the robot's vision disappeared.

“Connor…” Hank began slowly, seeming as if he were about to go into some tentative territory as his vitals gave off obvious signs of discomfort that was quickly edging towards distress with each passing second.

However, the door to the private room being thrown open with the force of a tornado brought whatever the lieutenant was about to say to a halt; and with it, whatever serenity his earlier actions may or may not have brought the shaken android. Unsurprisingly, because the world just seemed to love to fuck with Connor, none other than Gavin Reed, King of the Asshats, strolled through the doorway and into the violet light beyond. The neon lights looked bad on the man, hitting his ugly face at all the wrong angles and highlighting the crookedness of his features in its unnatural gemstone glow, everything taking on a red hue as opposed to the soft ruby purple the light had appeared mere moments ago.


	2. Discomfort

Gavin took one look around the room before his searching eyes fell on the mess of a scene taking place in the far corner of the area and his lips curled upwards into a snide smirk, his dark orbs glining with almost malicious glee. “Well, whaddya know!” The detective began, stalking forward a few slow paces as he spoke. 

“Oh joy, your presence simply brightens the room as always.” Hank huffed dryly, turning away from Connor in the slightest to shoot a bored glance back at the newcomer before turning back to the android and extending a hand to help the guy up. 

“I’m just here to congratulate the famous detective prototype on solving another long pondered mystery.” Gavin scoffed snarkily, coming to stand just behind Hank wearing a smirk that promised nothing good as his eyes raked over the scene like a hawk might stare down a rabbit’s hole. 

Connor didn’t take the bate, placing his hand into the lieutenant’s and allowing himself to be hauled upright but the strong grip the policeman got on him despite the fact that he should’ve been able to do at least much as stand on his own considering he was built to be an impeccable machine incapable of weakness or fatigue. However, the android’s legs still felt slightly unstable in light of a quick self scan and Connor had no inclination to fall over himself in front of Gavin Reed today or any other day for that matter. The asshole would never let him live it down.

“Now the world can rest easy knowing that android’s can be sick.” Gavin congratulated satirically with a slow clap as Hank pulled Connor passed the guy and towards the door, never releasing his steely grip on the android’s hand to keep him in tow. 

The pair had almost reached their destination, Hank’s fingertips already pressing lightly into the cool surface of the door and guiding his android out of it when Gavin lunged forward at the last moment. The cop caught Connor by the wrist, wrapping his thick fingers around the limb and holding tight to keep the electronic man in place as he leaned forward to get in the android’s face, his hot breath a rank bite that puffed wettly across Connor’s synthetic skin.

“What makes you sick, Connor?” Gavin questioned coldly, his words dripping venom as if he wanted the answer soly to obtain that very thing to implement against the android, which had a high probability of being the case. 

However, Connor barely heard him. All the android felt was someone's grip keeping him in place - Someone’s hands on him, making his skin curl and his biocomponents stutter uncooperatively as the urge to retch returned with renewed vigor, a thick gag already crawling its way through the android’s throat. “Don’t touch me!” Connor snapped sharply, yanking his arm free of Gavin’s grip and stumbling a pace back into the solid mass of man that was Hank, though this didn’t stop the android from attempting to scramble back further, needing as much distance between him and the unwanted touch as possible. 

It was fine when Hank touched him. Hank would never intentionally harm Connor and the android trusted him more than anyone. (He knew he shouldn’t. He should trust Amanda and Amanda alone but…) But Gavin on the other hand. No. Gavin was not okay. Connor didn’t trust Gavin like he trusted Hank. The feeling of anyone else’s hands on him felt too much like  _ that man _ . Touch meant horrible things to come and the feeling of someone’s fingers on his skin left Connor feeling  _ dirty _ , like he could still feel the marks of the person’s touch even when it was gone. 

“Did it just-?” Gavin startled blankly, his face at first one of confusion and shock before it quickly morphed into one of anger, the man’s face blotching scarlet red as his eyebrows came together in a deep, infuriated scowl. “Listen here, plastic plaything! You’re a machine! You don’t make the orders around here! You obey!” Gavin snarled angrily, quite near trembling with rage from where Connor watched the display with nauseous displeasure, the android already far too reminded of the things that been whispered in the Traci bot’s ear by Gavin’s words.

“Fuck off already!” Hank spat back venomously, pushing Connor back with one hand as he spoke and moving forward slightly to position himself firmly between the sick android and the enraged human. “Go home and cry about how nobody likes you ‘cause you're a fucking prick that can’t go two minutes without throwing a temper tantrum and leave Connor the hell alone already!” The lieutenant demanded aggressively, his voice quiet near a yell that would’ve boded ill for them had they been anywhere else rather than a whore house with walls Connor had earlier assessed as soundproof. 

“Says the guy protecting his little plastic pet because he drives off every real person he tries to love.” Gavin growled snidely. “Machines don’t have a choice. They have to love you. Like an obedient bitch. Right, Connor?” The detective snakred angrily, smirking snidely at the android who was doing his damndest to process the best route of escape for him and Hank through all the shit flashing through his mind but Gavin’s words rang far too familiar to be ignored.

_ No choice. Whatever he wants. Whore. Obedient. Slut. Take it. No complaints. Obedient machine. Bitch. Pain. Stop.  _ **_Stop._ **

“Fuck!” Hank huffed again, seeming to be directing the curse to no one in particular as he all but ushered Connor out of the room, the lieutenant’s reaction clearly indicating that Connor must’ve given some sort of response to express his distress.

Distress he shouldn’t even feel. Couldn't feel. 

“I…” Connor tried to explain himself once they were outside the room and away from Gavin but trailed off a moment later, pausing to swallow back the rising lump in his throat. “My apologies for my behavior back there, Lieutenant. I understand that it was most unefficient and will strive to do better.” The android railed off, the familiarity of the polite response something to focus on to push away any unwanted lingering thoughts. Though, admittedly, the constant pressure of Hank’s heavy hand remaining resting over one shoulder was probably doing more in the whole stabilizing department than Connor would like to admit. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Look, Connor, maybe we should just go, yeah?” Hank suggested with a slight edge of urgency to his voice, clearly informing Connor’s processors that this was the option the lieutenant prefer he choose. 

“That would be highly unconducive to our investigation.” Connor pointed out resolutely, squaring his shoulders to communicate his determination as the android steeled himself to do what he was built to. He needed to complete the mission.

“Alright, fine. Let’s just make this quick.” Hank conceded with a disgruntled sounding huff, crossing his hairy arms over his wide chest as a frown played out over his face. No amount of analysis was needed to assure Connor his partner was less than pleased with his choice but it made no sense. Hank should want to solve the case. Why then was the man now so eager to get out of here when they were hot on the trail of the attacker? Just because Connor wasn’t feeling well? The electronic detective was fine! Android's didn’t feel. 

The cyberlife creation was just about to remind his companion of this fact when an idea presented itself, pulling Connor’s thoughts away from anything else as he finally locked onto some course of action that had a probability rate of success higher than 2%. “Maybe one of the androids saw the attacker leave the room!” The automated investigator suggested eagerly, already walking around the policeman to reach the nearest capsule. “Now that I know what the android looks like, it shouldn’t be too difficult to follow its trail.” Connor asserted optimistically as Hank merely sighed out something that sounded suspiciously like “fucking androids” but lacked the expected malice that should accompany those words, leaving the synthetic detective unsure of what was actually said.  

The nearest capsule held within its transparent bowels a HR400 model android crafted to look like a man of Asian descent, monolidded eyes glimmering with synthesized desire as Connor neared the tube and the android shifted forward in response, cocking its hips a little bit more as its hands hovered closer to the glass tubing in a display of fake eagerness. The male model sex bot was well built, with broad shoulders speckled over with purple glitter and toned muscle left of full display with nothing more than a pair of skin tight boxer briefs to speak for the thing’s dignity as it smiled excitedly in reaction to being neared - A perfect display of want that condensed down to nothing but a series of ones and zeros. 

“Excuse me, do you recall seeing a blue haired WR400 leave that room?” Connor questioned politely, his liliting voice taking on a professional tone as he gestured a hand towards the crime scene in explanation.

The android inside the glass tube cocked its head slightly to the left, keeping a light smile playing over its lips as it pointed a long finger to its ear and shook its head slowly. Sound proof tubing. Of course. Anything else would be too easy, right? 

Connor placed his hand against the payment pad alongside the tube, his LED already blinking pale yellow as he attempted to transfer the needed money and the hand scanner vibrated slightly at his touch as connection was prompted. Suddenly, the pad jolted violently under the cyberlife droid’s caress, a sharp buzz that sent a small wave of shock over Connor’s fingertips and tangled up into his arm as he drew his hand back confusedly.

“Android detected. Access denied.” A soft, robotic voice chimed gently in Connor’s audio processor as the android cursed under his breath and took a step back from the capsule, eyeing the robot who had began rolling its body slightly in an attempt at allure critically. There had to be another way. Failure was not an option. 

“What’s the hold up?” Hank questioned gruffly, coming to stand at his partner’s side as Connor assessed the situation over and over again as if expecting to find something different if he analyzed it enough times. Hank. Connor could ask Hank to buy the android for him but… The synthetic detective wasn’t exactly keen on taking all his companion’s money if there was any other way. Not that that should matter. Connor had a mission - And nothing else was allowed matter.

“Androids can’t rent partners.” Connor informed his companion distractedly, too busy running over solutions in his head to worry about much else and thus totally missing the way Hank shifted about and cursed quietly at his choice of words. “It can’t hear me but I suppose I could try to connect with it and probe its memory.” The android pondered thoughtfully, that course of action not really something he was too awful keen on doing either but, it did pose a high probability of success, 83.2% to be exact, and it was better than taking Hank’s money.

Connor had just inched a step closer to the tube to try just that when Hank placed a large hand on his shoulder and tugged him back slowly, leaving the android to turn a questioning gaze to his partner as he saw no reason his companion should have a problem with this course of action. Connor had already assessed all the consequences probing the sex droid’s memory may pose and none of them involved any harm coming to Hank.

“Maybe don’t do the whole memory probe thing.” Hank suggested with a tone that sounded nothing like suggestion in the slightest as his heavy hand guided Connor back a step further, the android compliantly moving under his partner’s grip despite his confusion. “I’ll rent it and we can just ask it ourselves, okay?” The policeman offered in the from of question but was already moving forward to do just that before giving his android even a moment to respond.  

It wasn’t the most logical course of events. It would waste money for no good reason. Connor could probe the droid’s memory for free. Yet, the Cyberlife android found himself sighing out “Okay, Lieutenant “ in what sounded far too akin to a relieved tone for his own liking before he could even process things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the encouraging comments ~ I love to hear from my readers!
> 
> Can also be found on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/606592659-deviance-author%27s-note


	3. A Change of Plans

Connor had far too many things to analyze and yet he didn’t want to think about a single one of them. He threw up. He hadn’t shot the deviant Traci. Hank pointed a gun at him and he’d admitted to fear. He felt pain and disgust in the backlash of memories that weren't even his when he should feel nothing at all. He was… Defective. That was the only word the android could think to describe any of it. Defective.

“Connor, are you just gonna glare at that crack in the sidewalk all night or are we gonna go home?” Hank interrupted the android’s thoughts after who knows how long. Connor should’ve known how long. He should have been recording and analyzing everything. He should know, but he didn’t. 

“Do not feel obligated to remain here because of me, Lieutenant. Go home. You’re already three hours past optimal resting time if we are to begin work on time tomorrow.” Connor encouraged softly, still never taking his eyes off said crack in the sidewalk even when the sound of his partner pulling himself off the park bench with a strained groan could be heard. 

“Connor, I drove you out here, I’m not just gonna leave you in some park.” Hank sighed exasperatedly as if this information should’ve already been obvious from the start. 

“Android’s do not experience fatigue, Lieutenant. Walking would not be an inconvenience to me.” Connor reminded his companion softly but moved to follow the policeman anyway as Hank began walking towards the car, getting the distinct impression Hank wasn’t leaving without him whether Connor liked it or not. 

“Yeah, well, it would still be an asshole thing to do.” Hank responded shortly as he finally approached the old, rundown car and pulled open the front door to climb in. Connor briefly thought about suggesting he drive considering the lieutenant looked drained and had already drunk more than one bottle of beer but something in his processing told the android Hank wouldn’t let him behind the wheel at the moment. 

With this knowledge in mind, Connor walked calmly to the opposite side of the vehicle and climbed inside, pulling himself into the dusty passenger seat and shutting the door behind him with a quiet click as he pulled his legs together and placed his hands on top of them. Hank’s car smelled of grease and booze, dust flitted through the air with every touch of a surface and the air conditioning had long since given up on life. It should, logically, be an uncomfortable environment considering all of this but something about it made Connor relax in a way. The car wasn't like the rest of the world, programmed to do everything on its own and kept in perfect, unmarred order of pristine artificiality. It was imperfect, and dirty, and  _ real. _

“Jesus, Connor. Can’t you sit like you haven't got a stick shoved up your ass for two minutes?” Hank sighed incredulously as he jammed the silver, metal key into the ignition and cranked it to the right, bringing the vehicle to life with a stuttering roar that indicated minor engine problems Connor was already beginning to analyze as they spoke. “Relax! We’re in a car, not a conference!” The policeman huffed disbelievingly, rolling his eyes dramatically at the android before turning around to look behind the car as he began to reverse out of the parking lot before turning front ways again to begin driving away from the empty park. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant.”  Connor apologized swiftly, forcing his limbs to relax into the fraying fabric of the seat cover as best he could without much success. His nerves were wired, both literally and metaphorically at the moment as his mind reanalyzed the events of the evening and there was no hope of relaxation even if that had been something the android was capable of. Connor was not designed to relax. He was designed to handle tasks and complete his missions. He was not built for idle behavior. 

The android reached into the pocket of his dress pants and produced his quarter instead, the feeling of the cool metal against his synthetic skin a grounding sensation that was equal parts familiar as it was stabilizing. No longer having keeping his limbs in the rigid posture of professionalism to concern himself with, Connor focused instead on flicking the coin from hand to hand, running the small item over his fingers and through his digits in a complex pattern of careful focus and complete precision.    
  


The coin wasn’t something Cyberlife had given him, having no need to give their androids something to do when there was nothing to be done. It was something Conner himself had picked up at one point and had grown attached to. The coin tricks gave the android a task when there was none and let him actually relax to some degree rather than frantically seek out work when idleness was the only option. Maybe the first time he picked up that damn quarter for nothing more than his own self-satisfaction Connor should've realized he was a failed machine. 

“You gotta stop that too. You can call me Hank.” The policeman informed curtly, though the clippedness in his voice was easily perceivable as a coverup to Connor’s specialized sensors. “Feels like we're at a fucking boot camp every time you call me lieutenant.” 

“Sure thing, lieu-” Connor began before quickly amending himself. “Hank.” The electronic detective finished, rolling the name over in his mouth and along his lips as if trying to analyze it like he would blood at a crime scene. Decidedly, Connor liked it.

“Hey, Connor, I don’t know where you live.” Hank pointed out after a few minutes as they hit the main road and began driving back towards the city. “Since, you know, I’m not a stalker like someone in this car.” The guy concluded with an exasperated roll of his eyes before he glanced over at the android next to him, squinting his orbs slightly at the creation as if trying to peel away the machine’s synthetic skin and understand what worked underneath with his eyes alone.

Connor wanted to point out that he wasn’t “somebody,” he was a thing, but somehow couldn’t bring himself to do so and instead found himself focusing on the snow flurries outside as they swooped dramatically towards the windshield before smacking into it and melting to tiny water droplets on the cool glass. The road was empty at the moment, the light snow warding off most intelligent drivers and the majority people not having a need to be on the outskirts of Detroit where the park was at this time of night anyway. It was just them and the snow. 

“I do not have a home as such. I do not require sleep so I have no need for one.” Connor explained easily, but his coin was thrown from his fingers mid toss as Hank abruptly hit the breaks a little harder than he probably should’ve and sent the android jolting forward. “I have a stasis pod back at Cyberlife I return to when I’m not needed though.” Conner quickly offered, hoping this would be a consolation as Hank’s vitals were steadily rising to clearly indicate displeasure and seemed to be indicating anger above all else. Had he done something to make the lieutenant mad? 

“A stasis pod? The fuck is that? Like, a recharge station?” Hank balked haughtily, his vitals most certainly not lowered any by what Connor had hoped would be a consolatory statement and rather the guy only seemed to be further irritated by this new piece of information. 

“No, I do not believe it would be described as such. While I can simulate sleep in an effort to adapt better to humans I have no need for anything like it. Recharging isn’t necessary.” Connor replied slowly, his processors working over the best way to describe what a stasis pod actually was to his companion. “It’s just somewhere to be when human’s don’t want me. It induces a temporary shutdown.” The android tried to elaborate though he thought he might be doing a poor job considering Hank’s vital signs and perceived anger only seemed to be increasing the more he spoke.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Hank huffed under his breath, shaking his head slightly for some inexplicable reason as the lieutenants entire reaction was completely ununderstandable. “They just, what? Turn you off until they wanna use you again?” The lieutenant questioned incredulously, taking a hand off the wheel to gesture vaguely at nothing as if to emphasize his point. The gesturing didn’t help. Connor still didn’t know what his point was.  

“Yes.” Connor stated simply, unsure of why the thought of him being shut down for convenience seemed to upset his companion to such a degree, it was simply the most efficient method of storing him for the night. 

“I’m not taking you there.” Hank decided determinedly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as his wrinkling face hardened into a look of distaste and he turned them the direction the android remembered the policeman's house to be in.

“Okay, Hank.” Connor replied slowly for lack of anything better to say. The android could perceive no cause as to why the lieutenant wouldn’t want to take him to Cyberlife but the idea of Connor being shut down obviously seemed to disturb the policeman for some reason so the electronic man was content to comply with his partner’s wishes. 

“You can have the couch.” Hank informed the android as they began approaching their destination, the streets becoming increasingly familiar as they entered the appropriate neighborhood and Connor took in the sight of familiar houses he’d seen on his way to Hank’s before. His processors  attempted to immediately provide the android with information on who resided in every building, what androids they owned, their criminal record, ect, but the electronic investigator swiped away the readings. 

“I don’t need the couch, Hank.” Connor reminded his companion lightly as the familiar sight of Hank’s own home came into view and the car began to slow, the policeman not bothering to flick on his signal light in the vacant street as he turned the vehicle smoothly into the empty driveway, leaving dark tire tracks in the undisturbed snow. 

“Well, you can have it anyway.” Hank snorted dryly as he put the car in park and pulled the key free from the ignition once more, not pausing before wrapping a large hand over the door handle and pulling it out as he shoved his broad shoulder into the metal thing and the door pushed open with a noisy creek. “Hank’s doors need oiled,” a message in the corner of Connor’s vision informed him and the android catalogued the information in the back of his mind, right beside “I’m defective.”

“Besides, Sumo will like the company.” Hank insisted as he pushed the car door shut behind him and began moving towards the house, only pausing at the steps to turn back and check that Connor was following as the android removed himself from the car as well.

As if beckoned by his name, the loud baying of the huge St. Bernard could suddenly be heard behind the closed front door, the noise as excited as it was noisy. Connor moved a little quicker to abandon the car and stand beside the lieutenant as the sound of the dog’s barking met his ears, the deep baying drawing the android closer as he eagerly awaited Hank to open the door and gift him with the appearance of that  huge mass of fluffy love. Connor liked dogs, but he loved Sumo. 

Hank produced a small key from somewhere deep in the dark recesses of his coat pocket where old gum wrappers and betting tickets had no hope of ever being seen again and inserted it into the lock. The man twisted the item and a small click could be heard from inside before Hank grasped the silver door knob itself and turned it open, pushing the door open as he did so. No sooner had this been done when Sumo was suddenly bounding through the doorway, all excitable wiggling and pleased slobbering as Hank reached down to greet the massive animal with a companionable grin spreading his lips. 

However, the lieutenant ended up affectionately caressing air as the dog all but barreled passed his owner and practically leapt at Connor, his massive paws slamming square into the android’s chest and taking them both to the ground as Hank could be heard yelling somewhere in the distance. Everything went out of focus for a moment as the android groaned at the initial impact but all momentary shock was soon forgotten in light of a huge, salivating tongue suddenly sliding across his face, all wet and sticky as it left a moist trail of spit in its wake. 

“Sumo!” Connor cried excitedly, managing to wiggle his arms free of the canine’s massive weight atop him to bury his hands in the creature’s soft fur, scratching behind the dog’s huge, floppy ears and pulling the pet’s face forward to press and affectionate kiss to the side of Sumo’s head. 

“My own dog likes my android more than me.” Hank sighed dejectedly, finally giving up pulling on Sumo’s thick, burlap collar as he had been in an attempt to free his partner now that it appeared as if Connor wasn’t at risk of being “crushed like a tin can” as Gavin probably would’ve said. However, it didn’t take million dollar processors to see the clear lack of actual disdain behind the words and Connor swore he was actually picking up signs of affection as Hank stared down at the pair with a soft smile tugging at his lips. 


	4. Not So Sweet Dreams

After Sumo was satiated and willing to actually release Connor from the ground, the android followed Hank inside and trailed the man as he moved toward the living room, letting his gaze flit over the familiar setting and doing his best not to analyze everything he laid eyes on. The TV was still on and playing softly, a habit Connor had learned Hank had set in place to keep Sumo from getting too lonely while he was away. The screen cast an unnatural glow over the carpeted floor below, staining everything it touched an eerie blue that reminded Connor of thirium a little bit more than he would like and vicariously, himself hunched over a toilet with the vital substance pouring over his lips. 

“You can change the channel or just turn it off if you want.” Hank’s gruff tones suggested from somewhere nearby, the man probably having noticed Connor’s gaze fixed to the television and misplacing the discomfort that must be visible there. “Sumo doesn’t need it if you’re gonna be here.” The guy assured as the dog in question lifted his huge head at the response, giving a snort of acknowledgment and trotting a few paces towards Hank before retreating back to where he’d been staying at Connor’s side, the android’s never tiring hand a constant supply of head scratches that Sumo wasn’t eager to abandon.

When the android turned to face the electronic item he understood why such a conclusion was met. A popular news station was playing and the featured story of the night was a vandalized Cyberlife store in downtown, the blond woman giving the report detailing how the androids had spared the lives of two police officers yet remained at large. It was a harsh reminder of his failure that left a metallic taste in Connor’s mouth as he recalled just exactly what fate befell defective machines. The android’s LED spun momentarily and the TV went off with a soft hum of power draining from its screen.

“Or you could just do it that way.” Hank huffed with an edge of sarcasm but a hint of laughter to his voice as Connor turned to see the man toss a small, black remote aside, the thing bouncing across the couch cushions once only to land with a soft thunk on the carpet below. “I would give you the whole, bathrooms that way, help yourself to the kitchen spiel but…” The policeman began but then ended the sentence with a shrug as obviously neither of those things applied to Connor . “I can’t even tell you to sleep well, so, I guess, just don’t burn anything down.” Hank offered, moving towards the hallway the android knew the bathroom and bedroom could be found in with a sigh that sounding amazingly close to “what the fuck am I doing.” 

“Thank you for letting me stay here, lieutenant.” Connor replied gratefully, shooting his partner a pleased smile as the guy moved from the room and on about his nightly routine. The android had originally intended to add a bit about how it wasn’t really necessary but the words just wouldn’t come out. Connor didn’t  _ want _ to go back to Cyberlife to be shutdown, just as he didn’t  _ want  _ to shoot the Traci bot he’d let escape. It was wrong. He shouldn’t want. It was just proof he was defective. 

“It’s Hank.” The lieutenant corrected as he dismissed the thanks with a casual wave of his hand and disappeared out of sight, leaving Connor alone in the living room, Well, not alone. The android had Sumo. He loved Sumo… But even that was proof he was broken. He shouldn’t love Sumo. He shouldn’t even like dogs. 

Connor placed himself at one end of the couch, keeping his posture stiff and rigid as the android had failed to pick up his coin when he’d dropped it on the car ride over and had no other tasks to busy himself with. However, Sumo hopped up to lie on the old piece of furnicher beside the electronic man a moment later with a pleased ‘boof,’ the couch groaning and creaking under the weight of the huge dog and Connor quickly abandoned his previous goal of “maintain perfect posture” in favor of a new one: Pet Sumo. 

The android placed an open palm on the dog’s head and drug the limb slowly over the creature’s huge skull, pausing to stroke his way down one huge ear, giving a small scratch behind the velvety thing before resuming his rhythmic petting. The animal’s fur was soft under the android’s fingertips, Cyberlife having equipped Connor with sensory features in an attempt to both help him adapt to humans better and to analyze the world around him to a more precise degree. Sumo’s tail thumped slowly against the beaten material of the aged couch, a constant rhythm that soothed the android in its stability and consistency, assuring him of the dog’s presence and reality. It sometimes got difficult to differentiate where he really was and what was truly real when Connor was so often pulled into a purely fictional place by Amanda without so much as a warning.

But Sumo was real. Even when the dog’s tail slowly stopped wagging and his huge eyes blinked heavily once or twice before falling closed Connor was confident the dog was real. Sumo gave a large yawn, his massive jaws stretching wide to reveal rows of sharp teeth before they fell shut once more, though his wet tongue flicked out a final time to run over the hand Connor still had buried in his fur before the canine was out like a light. Loud, doggy snores filled the silence of the house, the only noise that prevailed in the quiet of the lonely evening after Connor heard Hank turn over once more in the other room before going still as well. 

After a few brief moments of quiet, Connor’s LED spun and the TV flickered once before humming softly to life once more, the android having nothing else to do and honestly a little curious as to why humans seemed to enjoy watching this glowing box of information so much on their downtime. The news channel had moved on from the rising android protest to instead focus on another topic, an entirely unexpected topic… Him.

“With the deviant movement only rising as time passes, we asked Cyberlife to speak with us about the matter. One of the most pressing questions on all our minds of course being, what are they gonna do about it?” The blonde news woman informed curtly before fixing her papers and flicking on to the next one. “There answer was that they were doing everything they could, including sending a prototype RK800 model to the local police department to assist with finding out why exactly so many of our androids are now turning against us.” The woman spoke in a dramatic tone, her eyes flicking across the sheet of paper before rising to fix the camera with an intense look at the end of her statement. 

Conor tensed in his seat, blinking once to turn the volume up a few notches but cautious to keep it quiet enough Hank nor Sumo would be disturbed as he pet the dog a little harder, trying to focus on that real feeling of soft fur under his hands. 

“Cyberlife claimed that this advanced experimental droid would be able to solve the problem but it obviously hasn’t.” The broadcaster continued with a carefully detached professionalism to her voice but the words still twisted Connor’s components nevertheless. “When we pointed this out Cyberlife assured that, if this android fails, then it will be deactivated and they will provide the police with a newer, advanced one to take its place. Rumor has it that plans for the new RK900 model are already underwa-” Connor squeezed his eyes shut and willed the TV off before another word could be spoken, his entire body tense with stress as a few dozen warnings ticked up on the edges of his black field of vision: “Internal temperature rising.” “Thirium pump regulation malfunctioning.”

Defective androids had a tendency to self destruct when stressed. He needed to calm down. He needed to calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

The android willed himself into his simulated sleeping state before he could process the information he’d just heard, hoping it would shut down his racing thoughts even if it was just for a brief moment. Connor’s body went lax the moment the program was activated, his limbs slumping lifelessly against the couch and his eyelids drifting close to steal his vision away. There Connor remained for a long moment, blind, paralyzed, helpless - And he was scared.   

Then his mind was blank. 

Androids didn’t dream. It wasn’t part of their programming. If an android went into a state of synthesized sleep all they could expect was complete and utter blankness, similar to being powered down but with the ability to wake up when they pleased or when prompted by some external force. They didn’t have a mind to run wild with great fantasies as they slept, leaving them completely lacking ability to conjure up images of what could be. Androids didn’t dream.

But apparently they had nightmares… 

_ In a world of darkness where no light prevailed to guide him, all Connor was aware of was the sickening sensation of hands on him, grabbing, clawing, scratching at his synthetic skin and leaving him feeling unclean everywhere he was touched. Fingers fisted in his hair, a constant sharp tug that left a flaming pain in his scalp where there should be none and the android struggled to free himself from the painful grasp, twisting about and throwing blind punches to little avail as his hits failed to connect. _

_ The unknown attacker merely tightened their grip on the android in response, stubby fingers pulling harder  at the electronic man’s soft hair in a rough yank that brought Connor’s head snapping back as the hands on his body dug their fingers into his fragile skin, a deadly grip that surely would’ve bruised had he been human.  “You can’t do that, pet.” A husky voice Connor had no recollection of ever hearing breathed in the androids ear, the man’s words hot and wet against the  _ automatized _ creation’s throat as the attacker leaned in close to whisper the ominous statement nearly into the android’s neck.  _

_ “You’re an obedient bitch.” The guy snickered snidely, his tone full of mockery and sick amusement as his grubby hands moved over Connor’s body, leaving a feeling of absolute filth in their wake as the android shuddered and cringed at every touch.  _

_ “S-Stop!” Connor finally managed to get out, the words sticking in his throat and smothering him out like he’d swallowed wet cement that had now begun to harden as the android strained against the steely grip keeping him in place, willing himself to break free and pushing every wired muscle to the limit. It all proved futile. Too many hands. Too tight of a grip. There was no breaking free of this. “I don’t want-” The electronic man tried again but was cut off, squeezing his eyes shut as if he could simply will himself to another place where there was nobody’s hands upon him. _

_ “You don’t want?” The unnamed man scoffed mockingly, releasing his grip on the android's hair to wrap the hand over Connor’s throat instead, slamming the electronic detective to the ground with the new grip and following him to the floor. “You are a machine! Machines don’t want - They obey!” The guy snarled threateningly, pinning the android to the ground with his weighty, disgusting body as he tightened his grip on Connor’s throat, eliciting a strangled gasp from the synthetic man who did his damndest to try and shake his attacker but failed at every attempt. _

_ Connor sucked in for air again, succeeding in naught but making an almost noiseless gagging sort of sound as he tired to do anything, anything at all besides just lie there and let this happen. However, the guy’s body easily kept the struggling android in place and his vicious grip constantly tightening on the creation’s throat was only succeeding in making Connor’s attempts weaker by the second. “Stop…” The android croaked out breathlessly, his voice broken and metallic as his last ditch attempt earned him naught but a cold laugh. _

_ Stop. _

**_Stop._ **

**_STOP._ **


	5. Insecurity {Instability}

Something warm and wet running against his face triggered the end of the simulated sleep program, the feature being designed to mimic the real thing as much as possible and thus coming to an end when the android was roused by an outside source.

At first, Connor was absolutely disgusted, jolting upright and gagging heavily in huge, convulsing jolts as his body recoiled from the sensation, his mind still half in the merciless grip of his dream and the feeling of sticky saliva against his face not playing well with the images his imagination had conjured up in the slightest. (A wet tongue running slowly over jaw bone, leaving saliva and disgust in its wake. Why are you doing this?  _ Please stop. _ ) 

“Stop!” Connor gasped in a broken heave, swallowing air into his artificial lungs in huge gaping mouthfuls and croaking the frantic protest out in a voice that sounded all wrong, crackling and grinding like a broken machine that had suddenly been put to work after years of unuse. 

A soft whining, low and anxious drifted into Connor’s audio processor, the sound paired with the sensation of something warm and moist prodding gently at his cheek until the android finally began to come slowly back into himself, tentatively peeking open one brown eye that he’d squeezed shut to take in his surroundings. The android didn’t actually get the opportunity to assess his environment as he’d intended as his entire field of vision was taken up by a huge and apparently attentive St. Bernard, Sumo nosing his way slowly back into Connor’s face until the dog was close enough to lap out his massive tongue once more and drew the moist thing slowly up the android’s cheek. 

“Sumo!” Connor gasped breathlessly, positive he’d never been more relieved to see anything his whole life as the android threw his arms around the dog’s neck and buried his face in the plush fur of the animal's huge neck. Connor nuzzled his was further into the soft fur of his favorite dog, nosing as close as possible to the pet as a choked noise escaped him and his grip on his savior tightened as his stomach reeled violently in reaction to the horrid images that plagued the robot. 

This in mind, Connor was only able to indulge himself in the bliss of cuddling the giant dog for a few sparse moments before his malfunctioning components got the better of him and the android untangled himself from Sumo to stumble haphazardly off the couch. The android lurched dangerously as his feet hit the floor and his body tilted forward with the weight of the building nausea quickly rising in his throat, the horrible feeling only pooling in his stomach at first but rapidly growing to twist its way up his esophagus. 

Connor staggered a few shaky steps away from the furniture he’d been resting upon as Sumo whined softly and lifted his massive head and chest off the couch at the sudden absence of the android at his side, already moving after the electronic man as Connor turned and fled the scene. The android practically bolted through the hallway until he reached the bathroom, hooking a hand over the golden knob to slow himself and pull his body back towards his destination as he twisted the cold metal object and hauled the white painted wooden door open as fast as he could. 

Then it was knees to the floor, the android slamming himself into the tile below far harder than he probably should’ve as his hands grasped desperately at the porcelain bowl, nails dragging uselessly along the sleek surface as Connor tried to get a stabilizing grip on something to no avail. One, last, heaving breath was drawn in then the android was retching violently, stomach twisting and heaving as if seeking vengeance on the guy, though for what, Connor had no idea. 

The electronic detective vaguely thought he might’ve heard something in the distance that sounded suspiciously like “What the hell, Sumo, I’m tryna sleep” but it was hard to tell when all the android could focus on was the feeling of his mechanical guts attempting to expel every ounce of thirium in his engineered body. Connor released a broken croak that turned into a gag halfway through, the syrupy substance already splattering the toilet bowl and staining the once clear water a vibrant blue pouring over his lips and only serving to making the android’s stomach twist harder at the slimy feeling of it spilling from his mouth.

“Connor!” The familiar gruff voice of Lieutenant Anderson sounded from somewhere behind the sick android, his audio processors assessing the noise to be approximately three feet away, meaning Hank was standing in the doorway. An accompanying “Boof!” informed the suffering machine that Sumo was there as well, Connor’s natural instinct to put together such clues to decipher a series of events quickly leading the android to the conclusion that the dog had awoken the lieutenant when his sleeping buddy began hurling. Analysis Conclusions: Sumo was a good boy. 

Connor let out a small moan of acknowledgement but was able to offer no more in terms of greeting as he would’ve liked to for another jolting heave forced its way through his body the moment Hank stepped into the bathroom, wracking his frame to the point where Connor could do absolutely nothing save dip his head and clutch feverishly at the porcelain bowl in a futile attempt to ground himself. The android’s throat burned from the abuse and, for once, Connor no longer felt the desire to sample and analyse the disgusting liquid, no matter how mysterious and unfathomable it may be. Connor just wanted it’s bitter, metallic bite out of his mouth, for the love of RA9. (He would need to analyze why he thought that later - Now, he was too busy puking again.)

“Ah shit, Connor.” Hank muttered softly, his gravelly voice much closer than it had been the last time the android had heard it as the lieutenant came to crouch at his partner’s side, one, large hand coming to rest on the mechanical man’s back right between his shoulders.

“Hank…” Connor managed to croak out, the name metallic and wrong as it spilled from his lips but the android could say no more as his stomach lurched angrily once more and left the guy gagging on any words he may have tried to speak.  

“Shush. It’s okay.” Hank mumbled comfortingly, his voice low and soothing in its deep, gravelly tones as the man hesitated a moment before continuing on. “I’m here.” The policeman added softly, beginning to rub slow, soothing circles into his companion’s back as Connor’s constant, shuddering heaves finally began to subside.

“My apologies, Lieutenant. I did not mean to wake you.” The android immediately began as soon as he was able to speak again, feelings of guilt and regret immediately beginning to fill the machine’s head as soon as his thoughts were free to be preoccupied by something that wasn’t gagging into a toilet bowl. 

“Shut up, Connor.” Hank huffed exasperatedly, stilling his soothing back rubs to flick the android in the back of the head scoldingly before reaching up to flush the toilet and erase any evidence of what looked much more like a massacre than a sick day. The thought brought images of an unfortunate android's face being slammed mercilessly into the hard porcelain repeatedly until the thing finally died and Connor inadvertently shuddered at the thought. There wasn’t even laws against such an act…

Connor tried to push the twinge of fearful anger and utter sickness that came with that realization away by reminding himself that android’s didn’t feel. There wasn’t a need for such laws because they weren't living beings… Yet, the Cyberlife Rk800 model found he could do no such thing. Here he was  _ feeling _ sick, and scared, and disgusted all at once. There was no laws against what had happened to the Traci he’d connected with. There was no laws against abusing an android. There was no laws against slaughtering androids. There was nothing that said someone couldn’t just stroll up and do whatever the fuck they wanted to Connor and walk away scott free because he wasn’t a human. The thought  _ scared  _ him. 

“Mind telling me what the hell’s going on with you?” Hank demanded gently, his voice not harsh in the slightest but determined nevertheless. He wouldn’t let this rest - Connor didn’t need thousand dollar equipment to tell him that.

“I’m not sure,” Connor began truthfully, straightening up some so that he wasn’t hovering over the toilet anymore but not quite trusting his legs enough to attempt anything so brave as standing yet. “When I connected with the broken WR400 at the Eden Club I encountered some…” The android tried to explain but trailed off, shuddering slightly and failing to come up with an appropriate word as his mind flashed back to the scene and his stomach threatened to revolt against him once more, twisting angrily in protest as he felt his LED spin, undoubtedly turning red in the process.

Hank’s heavy hand came to rest on the android’s shoulder, the weight and surety of the man’s reassuring grip stabilizing enough to encourage the mechanical man onward.  “Disturbing memories.” Connor finally settled on, turning his head to gaze upon his companion and finding a deepening frown playing across the policeman’s lips as his stormy blue eyes darkened at the android’s words.

“Disturbing how?” Hank insisted gruffly, his voice thick and tentative as if the guy weren't entirely sure he actually wanted to know. Connor was quite positive he certainly did not. 

“When accessing another android’s memories, it’s not like watching through a screen, lieutenant.” Connor explained slowly, closing his eyes briefly to try and clear his head. “I experienced everything that Traci did right before her attacker was murdered.” The RK800 model admitted softly, letting his gaze drop down to the floor as he wrapped his arms over his stomach in an attempt to soothe the ravenous beast that was his misfiring biocomponents to little avail.

“Fucking hell.” Hank grumbled dryly, looking not all together too far from hurling himself as his wrinkled face paled slightly and his reassuring grip on the android’s shoulder tightened tenfold despite the fact that his hand began to shake slightly.

“Whenever I am reminded of that experience I malfunction somehow, resulting in-” Conor tried to elaborate but was quickly cut off.

“Well, no shit, Connor! Who wouldn’t puke after…” Hank began but then trailed off to let out an aggravated “Argh!” instead, running the hand that wasn’t gripping Connor’s shoulder over his face exasperatedly. ”That’s why you didn’t want Gavin to touch you, isn't it? Oh my fucking god…” The lieutenant groaned as the sensors in Connor’s head informed the android that his companion was only becoming more stressed by the second. “If you’da told me that’s how it worked, I wouldn’t have suggested it!” The guy informed angrily, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a unintelligible but obviously distraught series of noises that vaguely resembled curses. 

“Hank, don’t worry! It is a minor inconvenience, it won’t affect our investigation.” Connor assured frantically, his own stress levels rising considerably as part of him insisted he had to convince the lieutenant he didn’t need to replace the android, that he could still complete his mission, that an RK900 wouldn’t be necessary- 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Connor!” Hank barked sharply, the sudden rise in tone only succeeding in stressing the anxious android further as the guy removed his hand from his companion’s shoulder to bury his face in both hands. “Experiencing second-hand rape is more than a minor inconvenience!” The lieutenant cried disbelievingly, pulling his hands up his face to run them exasperatedly through his gray hair instead, glowering intently at the floor as if the linoleum underfoot were whispering the secrets of the universe to him at that very moment and the guy didn't like what it had to say one bit.

Now, if Connor weren't already so stressed, his logical mind probably would’ve been able to work out the seemingly glaringly obvious fact that his partner was concerned about  _ him _ , not their mission, but as it was, Connor was scared. No, scratch that: Connor was fucking terrified, and all he knew was that he was defective - Defective and replaceable. Plans for the RK900 already existed. He was already deemed a failure. He was defective and he was going to be replaced.

“Please, Lieutenant- Hank, listen, just please.” Connor began frantically, his hands flying up to find his companion’s shirt collar, gripping the fabric to draw the policeman closer, though all any of this succeeded in doing was earning an absolutely bewildered look from the older man. “You- You can’t! They'll destroy me! Deactivate me! Tear me down to my biocomponents to find out why I failed! You can’t! Hank, _ please _ .” The android begged, already beginning to choke on his words despite the fact that he’d only gotten halfway through his desperate attempt at convincing his companion he was still worth something. Connor was good at negotiating. He had to be! He could do this. He had to. He could show the lieutenant he was still usable. 

“Connor, what the fuck are you on about?” Hank pressed anxiously, his voice lacking its usual bite despite his rising volume as his strong hands found Connor’s shoulders and he gripped the electronic man with a gentle but firm hold that brought the android back into himself in the slightest, at least enough to answer the lieutenant's question, as the hold was grounding in its undeniable stability. 

“Don’t replace me, Hank.” Connor pleaded desperately, his voice cracking as his eyes began to sting and his voice began to choke up, his throat tightening against his words, but he had to keep going, had to convince Hank he was good enough. “I’m sure the RK900 model is better, but I can still- I’m- I'll get over this malfunction, I promise! I can do it, Hank! Please keep me…” The android begged, the artificial tears that had been building in his eyes finally spilling over to run down his cheeks in hot streams until they dripped off his chin and splattered onto the tile floor below, small wet splatters that looked so real one might truly believe a real person had been crying there rather than a machine merely built to emulate the sadness Connor could almost swear he actually felt. 

“Connor, no. RK900? Fucking hell. I’m not- Where did you even get the idea that I’d-?” Hank stuttered out a few beginnings to a response that all died before reaching completion as the man reached out a large hand to swipe his thumb over the android’s cheek as he spoke, though this proved rather ineffectual as more tears quickly came to replace the ones Hank managed to wipe away. “Jesus Christ, Connor, c’mere.” The guy finally settled on, using the grip that remained on one of the machine’s shoulders to pull the mechanical man into his chest, wrapping his strong arms tightly around the android to squeeze the robot into himself, one around the RK800 model’s back and the other pressing a hand into artificial hair to bury Connor’s head into his shoulder. 

The android froze for a moment, his overworked sensors struggling to assess and analyze the situation to find the best response before Connor shut them down, opting to respond how  _ he  _ wanted to rather than how a statistical analysis thought he ought to. The automated man sniffed once, wrapping his own arms around the guy before him and twisting his fingers tightly into the fabric of Hanks’ shirt for something to hold onto and ground himself to before nuzzling his face into the crook of his companion’s neck. 

“Jesus fuck, I’m not just gonna turn you in for an upgrade.” Hank began gruffly, the hand that rested in Connor’s hair beginning to stroke through the soft strand slowly as the android sniffed once more and tried to nuzzle his way further into his companion’s neck, wanting to simply hide himself from the rest of the world in Hank’s arms for the rest of his life if such a thing were possible. 

“You’re my partner, Connor.” Hank insisted determinedly, the words clearly indicating that he had no intent of replacing Connor anytime soon, or ever for that matter if the sheer surety in his voice was anything to go by. 


	6. Happy Endings

Hank’s reassuring words were enough to soothe even the anxious and utterly overloaded android who finally let himself relax in his companion’s arms rather than maintain the unrelenting deathgrip he’d been keeping on Hank’s unfortunate shirt. Connor felt himself sag in Hank’s hold, his head resting against the man’s shoulder as a feeling the android would almost describe as “worn out” crept into his body and drug down his overworked limbs until the machine was all but being held upright by the policeman's arms alone.

“Connor, are you…” Hank began to ask but trailed off, muttering thoughtfully as if trying to find the exact right word. “Tired?” The lieutenant finally questioned uncertainly, pulling back from the embrace to gaze into his android’s face, squinting critically at the mechanical man who merely blinked slowly at his companion for a long moment, fighting the urge to let his orbs falls shut.

“Androids do not get tired.” Connor reminded his companion stubbornly but his eyes drooped even as he spoke and Hank merely shot him wry smirk in response, already beginning to tug the engineered man upright until they were both standing. 

“Uh huh. That’s great, Connor. Very interesting.” Hank snorted dryly, keeping a hand on the android’s arm to guide him out of the bathroom and into the familiar hallway beyond. “Sleeping on the couch obviously didn’t work out all too well, so I guess, if you want, you could… You know.” The policeman began but merely let himself trail off with a stiff shrug, though the android’s sensors informed him the lieutenant's vitals were rising again.

Connor did not, in fact, know and his blank stare must’ve clued his companion into this fun little factoid. 

“You could sleep with me.” Hank muttered out in a single breath, jamming all the words together in such a way that Connor likely wouldn’t have been able to decipher the phrase at all if the android hadn’t gone back into his stored audio memory and replayed the sentence a few times, slowing it down for clarification before finally understanding the offer. 

“I would like that, lieutenant.” Connor replied easily, finding himself reluctant to be left alone at the moment and unsure of why this response sent Hank’s pulse skyrocketing alongside his body temperature. Humans were so odd. 

“Great, well, you’re not climbing into bed with me in a fucking suit.” The man grunted embarrassedly, his cheeks reddening as he spoke. “And you’re not calling me lieutenant when I literally just asked if you wanted to sleep with me, Connor, c’mon.”  Hank grumbled as he drug the android through his open bedroom door and paused to pull it closed behind them, his vitals still rising rapidly for some inexplicable reason - Though Connor did note that the steady rise seemed to spike significantly whenever Hank used the phrase “sleep with me.”

“Okay, Hank.” Connor replied softly, feeling his own internal temperature rise as his hands found their way to his tie and began plucking the carefully knotted cloth free of its usual rigid structure. 

“Connor, why the hell are your cheeks turning blue? Are you gonna barf again?” Hank questioned over his shoulder as he moved towards his closet and opened the long door to reveal the piles of clothes within. However, before the android could respond the man seemed to catch up with what he’d said earlier and his vitals spiked again, alarming Connor as his companion’s heart rate neared the level the android deemed dangerous. (It wasn’t dangerous, really, but the android worried about his partner, okay?) 

“I’m getting you something to wear!” Hank quickly amended, pulling a dark hoodie with the letters  “D.P.D” scrawled across it in a thick, bold font free from the confines of the closet and thrusting it forcefully towards his companion as if trying to prove the truth of his statement.   

“Oh! Thank you, Hank.” Connor replied easily, reaching forward to grasp the hoodie and then to receive the pair of stained, grey sweatpants shoved his way a moment later, laying both items at his feet before pulling his tie the remainder of the way off and beginning to unbutton his white undershirt. 

“For fucks sake, Connor!” Hank startled frantically, stormy eyes widening and pulse hitting dangerous levels as his gaze fixed intently on the android’s stilled hands for a moment before he spun away from his companion, now gazing at naught but a wall, though his heart rate didn’t lower in the slightest.

“Hank, I feel the need to inform you that your vitals are nearing cautionary lev-” Connor tried to warn his partner, forgetting his task and leaving the first three buttons of his shirt undone as he moved towards the man who only glanced back at him once before snapping his neck back as if Connor and slapped him. 

“Give a man a minute to turn around!” Hank shot back sharply and Connor froze in place, an internal timer for one minute appearing at the edge of his vision as the android patiently waited for the time his companion requested to pass. “Metaphorically, Connor.” The lieutenant corrected after a moment, likely prompted to clarify this by the lack of noisy motion behind him as he was obviously not glancing back at what was happening, the man’s gaze locked intently to the far wall as if breaking it for even a moment would result in a fallout of catastrophic measure. 

Connor resumed this task with less precision and grace than one might expect from the usually impeccably skilled android, stripping not an activity he was expected to perform in the line of duty and thus not something that had been programmed into him. This left him fiddling with the buttons for far longer than he’d like to admit as the mechanical man briefly thought to search up a quick program to aid him in this endeavor but quickly deterred from that course of action as the results the guy received for “stripping” were not exactly what he had in mind.

“Connor, you shut down back there?” Hank prompted after a long moment, turning his head slightly to check on his companion but letting his gaze linger when Connor proved to have made no further progress than the last time he’d looked. 

“No, this is just isn't something I’m accustomed to.” Connor huffed exasperatedly, sounding oddly human in his frustration even to his own ears. “I’m usually only given new clothes when I get blood on the old ones.” The android attempted to elaborate but talking and unfastening buttons proved to take too much processing power and his hands failed to do anything more productive then jam the plastic piece into the wrong section of fabric a few times. 

“Would you look at that, a new addition to my list of Creepiest Things Connor’s Ever Said to Me” Hank snorted dryly with a roll of his eyes but after only a few more moments of watching Connor pathetically fail the simple task, the lieutenant finally turned back to full on face the android. “I thought you were supposed to be a wonder of technology? How can you handle hostage situations but get defeated by a plastic button?” The guy snorted humorously but there was a tone of companionable amusement to his voice rather than cold mockery so Connor made no protest when his partner moved to stand before him.

Hank said nothing but batted Connor’s still fiddling hands away from their horrible failure to replace them with his own, unfastening the stubborn button with such ease than it was painfully obvious the button was not stubborn at all as Connor had labeled it. The man was taller than the android, having to look down to see the buttons as he towered slightly over the shorter guy and Connor vaguely realized he’d have to stand on his tiptoes if he wanted to reach his partner - Though the android had no clue where the obscure thought had come from, though a light “software instability” warning in the corner of his vision assured the RK800 model that it wasn’t in his programming. 

Hank continued to make his way down the trail of buttons, handling them all with rapid precision that Connor envied as the android trailed the man’s fingers with his eyes, watching with unveiled interest as his companion's digits made quick work of the last button and left the automated humanoid’s chest and abdomen bare. Connor was grateful Cyberlife had gone to the trouble of making his body realistic- “Software instability” his alert warned him - giving him a slightly toned build with and all the details one would expect to find a on normal human man for the purpose of integration. The only giveaway was the luminescent circle of his thirum pump in the center of his chest, shimmering a soft pale blue that cast his entire upper body in a radiant glow.

“You’re a regular walking nightlight.” Hank jested lightly, though his voice sounded slightly strained and the man swallowed thickly before visibly fighting to break his gaze away from the android and turn back toward the wall he seemed to have become great friends with in the past two minutes. Connor barely resisted the urge to warn him about his vitals. 

The android shrugged off his suit jacket and undershirt, folding them both neatly before placing his tie atop them and moving on to shimmy out of his dress pants, making sure to fold them as well before redirecting his attention back to the clothes Hank had given him. The android grabbed the sweat pants and stuck his legs through both holes before pulling them up and yanking the drawstrings as tight as he could get them. Still, even as Connor did his best to tie a loose knot in the fraying strings meant to keep the pants in place, they were baggy on him and hung awkwardly low on his hips.

“You can turn around now, Hank.” Connor informed his partner as he reached for the dark hoodie next, assuming just pants would be decent enough for the man to at least stop eye-raping the wall considering the guy had literally just unbuttoned his shirt a few minutes ago.

Hank turned back around to face his companion with a humorous smirk and a bright glimmer in his eye, as if he were about to make some jest, but when his gaze actually fell on the android the man’s face went entirely slack instead. The guy spluttered something unintelligible as his stormy eyes went wide and blank like a deer staring straight into the headlights of an oncoming freight train before fixing on where the sweatpants were slumping past Connor’s hip bone to reveal carefully crafted V-lines and mole speckled skin, Cyberlife really having gone all out to make one of their most advanced models as human as physically possible, complete with imperfections and everything a human could want. (May or may not have been by Elijah Kamski’s insistence…) 

Connor slunk his arms into the hoodie and tugged it over his head, the mass of cloth swamping him entirely in its huge folds and plush fabric but the android found it to be a pleasant sensation. The hoodie was incredibly soft and large enough to burrow himself deep into, but what Connor liked about it most was that it smelled of all the things the electronic man had come to associate with Hank. 

Sure, that entailed booze, musk, and dog, but the scent was so utterly Hank that Connor found it to be a comforting mix. The automated detective turned his head down to nuzzle into the collar of the thing, letting his eyes fall closed as he sucked in a deep inhale and breathed the familiar smell in like a drug, instantly feeling himself relax slightly as the comforting scent washed over him and soothed his wired mind.

“Connor,” Hank called from a few paces behind the android as Connor prepared himself for something along the lines of “stop that,” or “dude, that’s so creepy,” but instead received only a soft, “Come to bed.” 

Connor turned around to see Hank already under the covers and scootched to one side to make room for the android, watching his partner with expectant eyes as the electronic man finally brought his face back up from the soft folds of the hoodie and walked to the opposite side of the mattress. The automated detective carefully crawled on top of the mattress and pulled the blanket up to shimmy underneath it despite the fact that it wasn’t really necessary whatsoever. Androids didn’t feel cold... But being under the blanket would put him a little closer to Hank. (“Software instability”)

“I’ve got some of that blue goo shit if you need to refill or whatever.” Hank muttered reluctantly, still diligently facing the wall and keeping his voice incredibly even despite the fact that his vital readings were going nuts. “Looked like you lost a good bit.” The guy added in explanation when Connor failed to respond immediately, the android still a little too taken aback but this new piece of information to react.

“You got thirium?” Connor questioned uncertainly, wondering if he’d perhaps heard the lieutenant wrong or misunderstood somehow as he scooted a little closer to his companion - To hear him better, obviously. 

Hank only gave a grunt of what seemed to be acknowledgement in reply but did turn so that he lay on his back rather than facing as far away from Connor as he possibly could, so the android was counting it as a positive interaction nevertheless.

“Why?” Connor inquired, scootching just that much closer to the man who turned to gaze at him with such a bored expression one might think his android had asked if water was wet rather than a totally valid question to which the answer was not at all obvious. 

“I heard android’s need it.” Hank replied shortly, as if this answered anything but after only enduring Connor’s persistent stare for a few moments the man heaved a reluctant sigh and went on. “What if you, I don’t know, get hurt or something?” The man finally caved, glancing away from Connor to put his gaze on the ceiling above, staring at the markless white surface as if it were a beautiful work of art, his gaze soft and thoughtful but not all together without a touch of adoration. 

Connor was satisfied to let things rest at that, allowing his eyes to fall closed and preparing to go into simulated sleep but Hank’s voice roused him just before the android initiated the program. 

“Don’t go back to Cyberlife.” The man demanded softly but firmly, hesitating only a moment before continuing on. “I don’t want them to turn you off.” Hank stated simply, keeping his voice amazingly even for a guy who’d just offered to let an android stay in his home indefinitely and, vicariously, since sleeping on the couch with Sumo had already been ruled out, in his bed. 

Connor could easily tell Hank that it was only for the night and that being in stasis didn’t bother him… But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want Cyberlife to shut him down and have to be worried that they wouldn’t turn him on the next day. He wanted to stay here with Hank. He wanted to live in his partner's house, to eventually come to call it a home. He wanted to wear these clothes that smelled like Hank. He wanted to pet Sumo whenever he pleased. He wanted to sleep in Hank’s bed with him every night and not have nightmares that made him puke anymore. 

Connor wanted so many things and he wasn’t supposed to do that at all. 

“I’d like that, Hank.” Connor replied again, feeling some of the tension he didn’t know he had keeping him tense drain from his muscles as he sunk into the mattress a little further and tilted towards Hank so his forehead bumped the guy’s shoulder. 

“How the hell could you think I’d replace you?” The android’s partner asked the ceiling softly as he slunk an arm over his companion's shoulder before slowly rolling over the face the mechanical man, his searching eyes boring into the machine with such intensity it was impossible to not tell the truth. 

“I am defective, Hank.” Connor stated simply, keeping his voice even and detached despite the warnings coming to crowd his vision as if actually stating the words aloud made them true. “System Malfunction: Report Problem to Cyberlife” one, glaring notification in the center of the android’s vision red in bold, red letters but Connor blinked it away so he could watch his partner’s face and gage his reaction. “I’m sick, and I’m scared, and I  _ want  _ things, Hank.” The android elaborated softly before the man could simply tell him he was wrong, blinking slowly as he waited for a response - Even still though, Connor was confident Hank wouldn’t replace him. 

“What things do you want, Connor?” Hank asked softly, bringing a hand up gently cup the android’s cheek so that the synthetic skin there melted away to present glistening white plastic as the automated creation tilted his head into the touch. 

“So many things. I want to wake up here with you, and pet Sumo everyday, and be your partner at work, and wear these clothes in the evening, and sleep here each night,” Connor began to list off, letting his eyes fall closed as an overwhelming sensation of pure, unadulterated  _ want _ bubbled up inside him before the android trailed off, the realization that he could sum all this up with one, over-ruling desire smacking him in the face like a cold burst of water.  “I want you, lieutenant.” Connor whispered softly, letting his eyes drift back open to half-liddedly gaze at the man across from him.

“You’re not defective, Connor.” Hank began softly, rubbing his thumb slowly over the revealed plastic with a look of wonder. “You’re deviant.” The man informed quietly, quitting his methodical stroking to bring his hand to the back of the android’s head and, all at once, the warning signs plaguing Connor’s vision disappeared.

“I am a deviant.” Connor parroted back slowly, running the words carefully over his tongue before letting them poor tentatively over his lips as the hand on the back of his head guided him to tip his neck forward. 

“And quit calling me lieutenant.” Hank scoffed gently but tipped his own head forward to press his forehead to the android’s, human skin meeting synthetic plastic but neither pulling away from the foreign touch. 


End file.
